


Branded

by Gweezle



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: #HannigramDay, Aftercare, Blow Jobs, Branding, Hannibal is smitten, Hannibal is totally down for anything Will wants to do to him, M/M, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Possessive Will, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, Scarification
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-22
Updated: 2016-08-22
Packaged: 2018-08-10 09:35:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7839679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gweezle/pseuds/Gweezle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A year after The Fall, Hannibal and Will have settled into a domestic life, but the former profiler decides it's time to leave his mark on the doctor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Branded

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, my doves. Happy Hannigram Day!
> 
> My gift for you on this wonderful day is a fluffy story about two lovesick murder hubbies...and a cattle brand. Gosh, this fandom.
> 
> Anyway, enjoy!

It started on a very warm day. Their air conditioner was being finicky again, and Will had taken it into the garage to try to repair it, while Hannibal busied himself with the household chores.

As the temperature climbed, he finally submitted to the heat, removing his vest and shirt. The Dragon’s assault had left its mark on him, but the wound had healed remarkably well. It hardly troubled him anymore. He sometimes wished it did. Will had been endearingly protective of him those first few weeks after The Fall.

He heard the kitchen door swing open and caught the aroma of motor oil and sweat. Will often smelt like that after extended periods in the garage. Normally he found such scents to be unpleasant, but as was often the case with Will, he had grown to enjoy it on some level.

He was busy with the dishes when Will came up behind him and wrapped his hands around his waist. The kiss to his neck left him momentarily breathless as it always did, and he fought against the urge to throw down the dishrag and carry his lover into the bedroom that very moment.

“I hope your return means that the air conditioner is functioning once again.”

Will smiled against his skin. “Considering the state I’ve found you in, I’m tempted to take a hammer to it just for kicks.”

Hannibal smiled back, finishing with the dishes and moving on to the cutlery. “Do you need me to help you set it up again?”

“No, I’ve got it.” He didn’t leave right away, though, and Hannibal sensed he was in deep thought. He waited patiently as Will slid his hand down Hannibal’s back until his fingers ran over the thick, white skin of Mason Verger’s brand. “I hate this scar,” he said abruptly.

Hannibal tilted his head, finally meeting Will’s pensive gaze. “It holds some unpleasant memories, but I prefer to think of the good ones associated with it.”

“Like when I bit a chunk out of Cordell’s face?” Will asked wryly, grinning.

Hannibal smiled. “When I carried you in my arms.”

“You can do that any time you want now, as long as you don’t throw out your back.”

Hannibal gave him a mildly affronted grimace, but Will soothed it away with a kiss.

 

The next sign came several days later. They were making love, Hannibal thrusting deep inside Will as the younger man cried out and clawed at his back.

“Can you–” Will’s question was interrupted when he moaned and shuddered, spilling between them.

Hannibal gave him a moment to recover before resuming at a slower, gentler pace.

Will panted for a few seconds, before looking up at Hannibal with a resolute gaze. “Can you feel it when I scratch you like this?” He dug his fingernails across the brand, watching Hannibal’s eyes for any sign of pain.

Hannibal tilted his head, taking the question seriously as he studied his own reaction to the sensation. “In some places, but most of the scar tissue is almost completely numb. I can feel pressure, but little else.”

Will smiled. “Guess I’ll have to dig in harder then.” He clenched around Hannibal’s cock in the way that always made the doctor come undone, and he collapsed next to Will, kissing him until sleep overtook them.

 

In retrospect, it was glaringly obvious what Will had been planning. Hannibal couldn’t find it in himself to be annoyed at his own lack of observation. Will’s ability to surprise him was too appealing to brood over.

Hannibal blinked sleepily as he struggled to lift his head from Will’s shoulder. A sedative or muscle relaxant mixed in the wine, perhaps. He hoped Will used something that wouldn’t react too badly with alcohol. He trusted his beloved was smarter than that, but the man could be reckless at times.

“How do you feel?” Will asked, petting Hannibal’s lengthening hair.

“Very tired,” he answered clinically. “I seem to be experiencing some muscle weakness and dizziness as well.”

“Is everything drifting further away?”

Hannibal blinked. “Indeed, it seems so. What did you give me, Will?”

“Nothing too serious. You’ll be fine in an hour. Two tops.”

“And what do you plan to do with me in that time?”

Will helped him lie on his back, head on the sofa’s armrest. “I just need to fix something. Don’t worry. I’ll be careful.”

Hannibal closed his eyes, not even bothering with a pretense of a fight. He trusted Will. They had been through too much for it to end this way.

Will removed his brown button-up, and then his dress pants. His underwear and socks soon followed, but the room was still warm from the fireplace. “I’ll need to turn you over. Would you like a pillow?”

“If you would be so kind.”

“I’m always kind.”

Hannibal opened one eye, smirking. “Of course, my love.”

Will flicked his nose and got up to retrieve a pillow, placing it under Hannibal’s head. He rolled the doctor onto his stomach and ran his hand over the Verger brand. “For what it’s worth, I hope this doesn’t hurt as much as the first time.”

He left then, and Hannibal rested there, his head turned to the side as he waited patiently. He could hear sounds from the direction of the garage, and his eyes widened somewhat when Will returned carrying what was unmistakably a cattle branding iron.

It was larger than the one Mason used, and the design was clearly something of Will’s. A reversed Three of Swords in the center, with antlers branching out from behind an anatomically correct heart. Hannibal would have gladly carved Will’s name into every inch of his body, but this seemed far more personal.

The fireplace was roaring, but Will went to Hannibal first, placing the cold iron against his back. Hannibal shuddered as Will adjusted it, tracing out its future location with a pen. It encompassed his old brand completely.

“It always bothered me what a sloppy job Mason did. Couldn’t even center it properly. I bet that drove you more nuts than the pain.”

Hannibal smiled dreamily, eyes drifting close again. “Somewhat. Are you hoping to do better?”

“I’m _going_ to do better.”

He shuddered again, bracing himself. “I _know_ you will.”

He didn’t have to see Will’s smile to know it was present. For a few long moments, he drifted in his drugged haze. The smell of antiseptic brought him out of it somewhat.

“Don’t use any alcohol swabs on me beforehand, or I’ll be liable to burst into flames.”

“I know, I know. I looked up how to do this. Don’t worry.” Will’s tone was mildly irritated, but that was probably just his nerves acting up. Hannibal wasn’t nervous at all.

“Aloe Vera gel and non-stick padding should do the trick. We can also pick off the scabs every week or so to make your brand more prominent. I’d prefer Mason’s to be lost underneath it forever.”

“Oh, trust me. It will be.”

Hannibal said no more, smiling peacefully as the branding iron heated up in the fireplace.

Will washed his hands in the adjacent bathroom and carefully shaved and disinfected Hannibal’s back before checking on the iron. “Almost there.”

Hannibal’s eyes fluttered, but he said nothing.

“Don’t fall asleep. I need you conscious so you don’t squirm too much and ruin my design.”

“I will treasure any scar you give me, Will, perfect or not.”

“You are the sappiest serial killer I’ve ever met.”

“And you love me for it.”

Will laughed – a brief, sharp sound. “Yeah, guess I do.” He checked the iron again and nodded. “It’s time.”

Hannibal relaxed every muscle, but made no attempt to hide inside his mind palace. He wanted to be present for this moment.

Will sucked in a breath, pulling the iron rod from the fire. Hannibal glanced at it once, surveying the glowing red design in anticipation. Will walked over to the couch and lined it up with the pen outline. “Okay, here goes,” he said shakily. “Three…two…”

Hannibal didn’t tense as the hot metal pressed against his back, indenting into the raised skin from the previous brand. A sizzling sound erupted, and his nose ached with the scent of his own burning flesh. The pain was better than the first time. Better, because most of the area Will had used was still numb from nerve damage. Only on the far left side did he feel any real pain, and that quickly vanished as those nerve endings burned away and died as well. He would be sore for quite a while, but he knew Will would take care of him.

After nearly thirty seconds, Will removed the iron to survey the results. He smiled, pleased by the perfectly centered design now adorning Hannibal’s back.

“I should get a camera,” he said, relieved. Now that it was over, he felt positively giddy, like he’d reclaimed something thought lost forever. “How does it feel?”

“Mostly numb. You may take some pictures if you wish. I do not mind.”

Will nodded, rushing into the kitchen to grab his cellphone. He turned on a lamp for better lighting and snapped a few pictures of the brand. He needed to be quick. Infection was still a possibility, and he wanted to take care of the wound before it became too uncomfortable for Hannibal.

He washed his hands again and disinfected Hannibal’s back with antibiotic ointment before gently rubbing the Aloe Vera over the burned area. He bandaged the wound, taping it down so it wouldn’t swell too badly.

“I’ll clean and dress it again in the morning,” Will said, smoothing his hand down Hannibal’s back, lower and lower until he reached the doctor’s hardening cock. “Are you enjoying this?” he asked, amused.

Hannibal nodded sleepily, bucking his hips to push against Will’s hand. “You are so enchanting when you take what you want, and then give me what I need.”

A sly smile spread across Will’s face. “Do you _need_ to get off, Hannibal?”

“Yes… _please._ ”

He let Hannibal remain on his stomach, not wanting to aggravate his new injury. Will slid his hand under Hannibal’s cock, separating it from the couch cushion beneath him. Pre-come spilled from him, and he moaned quietly as Will lowered his head and dragged his tongue from the tip to the base. Will knelt beside the sofa, turning his head to the side as he took Hannibal into his mouth, sucking him down until he brushed against the back of Will’s throat. His hands roamed over the doctor’s tranquil form until one reached the bandaged area and pressed down just a bit.

Hannibal came instantly, hips jerking as Will swallowed down everything he gave him.

Tears spilled from his eyes, but Will was there in a second, kissing them away with a sweet smile and a gentle touch. “ _Shhh, Hannibal. It’s okay. You were so_ _**good**_ _for me. I love you, mylimasis._ ”

After a moment of desperate shuddering, Hannibal finally calmed enough to notice Will’s hand had moved to the scar the Dragon had gifted to him a year ago.

Will smiled against his cheek, noticing he had Hannibal’s full attention again. “If you thought _this_ was good, just wait until you see what I have planned for the rest of them.”

He traced his finger along the puckered skin of the doctor’s lower back, and Hannibal smiled.

**Author's Note:**

> You know, part of me thinks this is Will's way of getting back at Hannibal for all the terrible things he's done, both in canon and in my other stories. He's really into it though, as you can tell, so maybe it's less revenge and more a, 'I know you'll enjoy this, but not as much as I will,' type of situation.
> 
> Also, please don't do any of this without consulting someone with actual knowledge about scarification. I literally spent ten minutes googling it. Don't mix drugs with alcohol. Don't drug people and brand them without their express permission. Don't be like Will and Hannibal, is what I'm saying. You'll be less likely to end up in prison.
> 
> Adieu, my faithful readers.


End file.
